


proud

by georgiabread (luminaryhowell)



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pride, lukas is a bit of a dick, there's like a cliché bullying scene, this might suck??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 22:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18765646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminaryhowell/pseuds/georgiabread
Summary: Philip wants to go to Pride, and that scares Lukas. A lot.





	proud

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first eyewitness fic so the quality is probably...questionable. but i really wanted to explore this issue, especially with lukas. i believe his process of coming out to others (and himself) extends further than season 1, so this story addresses that. anyway tell me if it's decent lmao??

Lukas frowned at the photo buried in his Instagram drafts. 

The clock on the side table glowed 6:31pm. The sun had fallen away and his bedroom crouched in sluggish dusk. His elbows were likely bruising his knees. 

He’d been frowning for a while. 

Alone, the photo wasn’t anything remarkable. Just a boy clutching a weathered Polaroid Sun, levelling the lens at some unseen subject. An impulsive snap salvaged by a grungy filter. Probably a bit try-hard. 

And yet the longer he stared, the more troubling it became. The photo threatened him from its place among unused pictures of old mates and motocross. It singed his retinas and quickened his heart. It sprouted sweat between his toes. Lukas dried them on his duvet and tossed his phone there with a clipped sigh.

This wasn’t a big deal. This was just another post his followers would skim over. He stretched the aching hunch from his spine and fell back against the headboard. Everything would be fine.

Except – his motocross sponsors followed him. Even a few well-known riders followed him. _They_ wouldn’t skim over his posts. They would scan every image to get a sense for who he was and whether he deserved funding and support. What would they think if they saw? 

_It won’t be weird. I can just say Philip is my cameraman – I wouldn’t be lying,_ he thought.

He picked up the phone again, his finger hovering over the share button. 

Everything would be fine.

“Lukas, I’ll be in Poughkeepsie tomorrow so you’ll need to finish off those outdoor jobs for me.”

The voice rumbled out on the landing before his door swung open and his dad traipsed into the bedroom. Lukas jumped, fingers lurching to shut off his phone and tuck it into his back pocket. He worked a casual expression onto his face.

“Wait, I thought—” He cleared his throat. “I thought you weren’t heading down there this weekend?”

Bo Waldenbeck scratched the back of his neck, one hand shoved awkwardly in his pocket. “Yes, well, the Lehmans need some quick help on their ranch so I said I’d be there. I just need you to clean out the shed, mow the lawn and things, alright?”

“Oh.” Lukas felt his gut roil. “I just – I sort of had plans to, uh, film a new ride for my channel with Philip. There’s an old dirt bike track through this forest, and we wanted to try it out tomorrow.”

Bo flicked his gaze to the floor as if jolted by the reminder that Philip still existed. Silence meandered around the room. “Well, you may have to cancel those plans. I need these jobs finished by Monday and I won’t have time to do them.”

“The ride won’t take long. I can be done by twelve and do the jobs after.”

Bo released a heavy sigh and pushed his hand over his balding head. “Lukas…I don’t know if I can trust you. You’ve been slacking off work lately, and I think it has something to do with that boy.”

“I promise I’ll do the work,” Lukas said, gulping down his indignation. “My channel just needs a new video – and this ride will be different to everything I’ve done before.”

The air sat rigid around them. Lukas clung to the duvet. Bo hardened his jaw.

“Alright then. Make sure you’re back before midday.”

“I will.”

“Good.” Bo moved to the doorway, then stopped. “Lukas?”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“You – you and Philip.” He turned around like a rusted nail against wood. “I know you guys have been close ever since…you know. But this little – uh – fling that’s going on might have to end soon. Now that you’re getting more attention from sponsors, I think it’s best if you keep quiet about all this and focus on motocross without Philip. You don’t want to go around giving the motocross community the wrong idea in case you lose those sponsors. Remember, Lukas, you’re a strong young man and – and playing at all this gay stuff will only drag you down.”

Lukas stared. He flattened his clammy fingers against his knees to stop the shuddering. Every possible response withered before he could think of the words. He ducked his head, blinking rapidly.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Bo trod towards the landing. “Think about finding someone else to film your rides, eh? That will help.”

Long after his dad had left, Lukas lingered on his bed and allowed his vision to grow dark in the gloom. He stared until the tears dried. Avoided dinner. And just before sleep overpowered his brain, he deleted the photo of Philip from his drafts.

–

Lukas swerved a corner on the barren forest road, tugging the throttle on his way out and dislodging dust from the bitumen. His calf muscles pulsed with tired blood. Adrenalin simmered in his veins and leached from his fingertips; residue from a white-knuckle ride in the trees bordering the Hudson. He held the handlebars lightly and indulged in the breeze that chilled his heat-stained skin.

The ride had been exhilarating – a forgotten track littered with dirt ramps, brackish creeks and vegetation left to overgrow. After a solid hour, the wheels and white lacquer of his bike were smothered in mud and his jersey damp. It was nothing like the open quarry or the flat road on his dad’s property. He knew he’d go back there, again and again, practising and stocking up on footage of his jumps and manoeuvres among the tree trunks. 

The ride had been something of a release, too. An emptying of all his agitated thoughts and emotions into a single, tangible activity. Balancing the bike on the jagged dirt, watching for haphazard trees, plotting his jumps – all his energy fixed on the ride itself. Allowing him to forget, for a moment, the night before.

…Which had grown difficult now that Philip’s arms were looped around his waist and Philip’s chest was pressed against his back. Moments earlier he had been leaning around the trees to grab videos of his whips and tabletops, and Lukas knew they would come out brilliant for his channel. 

And yet his dad’s grainy words lurked in his brain and brewed nausea in his stomach. Not even the submerged quiet of his helmet could flush them out. He picked up speed along a stretch of road and focused on the farmsteads appearing either side. Thankfully his dad’s ranch wasn’t too far from there; Lukas just wanted to watch his footage and make out with Philip and pretend last night hadn’t happened. 

“Dude, I’m so happy with those shots I got,” Philip said once they slowed into the shed and Lukas shut off the engine. “The framing of the trees and everything…I think your viewers will love it.” 

Lukas tugged off his helmet and shook out his blonde hair with a flourish. “Really? I was worried it wouldn’t look the best with all those trees.”

“So you doubted my ability to make you look good, huh?” Philip grinned as he opened his phone.

“No! You always make me look good. Did you catch some of the air on my jumps?” He flicked the kickstand to keep the bike upright. “I think I could’ve done better on a few.”

“You were fine.” Philip hoisted himself onto a workbench, still watching his phone. 

Lukas peeled off his protective gear and rummaged through shabby hardware and junk for a brush and a pressure washer. He dropped to a crouch and scrubbed at the dry dirt on the fairings. A comfy silence settled around them for a moment. “We can go back there in a week if I get enough hits. You reckon my sponsors would be interested in trail-bike riding?” he asked. 

“Why wouldn’t they?” But Philip wasn’t particularly invested in this reply, thumbing through some kind of article on his screen. 

Lukas didn’t notice, falling into a rhythm as he polished up his bike. “Well, I thought they would look for versatility in my riding and all that shit. But most of my other stuff is open riding and they’re happy with that so far.”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I should change it up and try out more of those forest trails. All the quarry footage is getting a little boring.”

“Yep.”

“Although I can still ride there when I learn new jumps – I wanna try a superman soon.”

“Right.”

“Have you seen a superman before? Basically, you hold the handlebars and—”

“Lukas, how do you feel about going to Pride?”

Lukas froze. All thoughts of motocross videos and superman jumps evaporated. “Pride?” He twisted his head and stared up at Philip, who clutched his phone in one hand. Something foul churned in his stomach. “Uh, why – why do you bring it up?” he spluttered. 

Philip looked bemused. “Well, it’s happening this weekend in the city and I’ve never been, so…I thought we could go.”

Lukas blinked, his mind clamouring for a response and his breath thinning. He thought of the photo in his drafts. He thought of his dad standing in his doorway. _Playing at all this gay stuff will only drag you down._ Lukas gripped the brush with weak fingers and turned back to his bike. “Yeah, I’m not going to that thing,” he scoffed, failing to sound nonchalant. “You can go – I don’t care – but I’m not coming with you.”

“Lukas,” Philip laughed nervously, “I thought you’d like to come. The whole point is that we go together. It wouldn’t be as, you know, meaningful – if you weren’t there with me.”

“If you want meaningful, all you have to do is show up with a gay flag and chant about how queer you are, right?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m saying you don’t need me there to have a good time. I’m not going.” 

“Why not?”

Lukas glared at a graze in the plastic. Philip sounded defensive – which was stupid. Lukas didn’t have a problem with Pride. He just didn’t want to go. There was nothing wrong with that. Why was Philip so defensive? Why did he have to bring this up at all? Things were so much better before he’d mentioned it. 

Philip huffed when he wouldn’t reply. “Lukas, I don’t know what your issue is. Pride is one of the only places we can be open without old conservative men breathing down our necks. What other reason do you need?”

“It – it’s not that. Even if we’re together, it doesn’t mean I have to go to _Pride_ ,” Lukas snapped. “I mean, I don’t have to paint my face fucking rainbow or wear high heels to show that I’m – gay. That’s just cheap, don’t you think?”

“No, that’s not what I fucking think.” Philip wasn’t sitting on the bench anymore. His voice turned grey. “You know, if that’s how you feel about Pride, maybe I will go on my own.” 

Nausea oozed underneath Lukas’s chest. He stood up. Philip glowered at him, eyebrows drawn low, jaw clenched. Lukas hated when his jaw was clenched. 

Philip turned to leave.

“Wait, Philip – I didn’t – that’s not what I meant,” Lukas sighed, scrubbing his face. “I’m sure you’d feel right at home, but Pride just isn’t me. I ride motorbikes and go hunting with my dad and all that shit. I don’t act like a girl.” 

Philip’s glare hardened. “Fine. If you want to believe you’re better than everyone else just because you act like a straight guy, go ahead – just make sure you stay the fuck away from me.”

Lukas’s stomach jerked. “What?” 

Philip was already leaving, hands put away in pockets. 

“Philip, stop. Why are you so pissed off?” Lukas demanded, following and clutching his arm. “I’m not trying to insult Pride, I’m just not the same as people like that. You’re the one insulting me.”

Yanking out of Lukas’s grasp, Philip twisted on his feet and barked, “Well, I’m sorry, Lukas. I’m sorry for trying to force you to be someone you’re not. I’m sorry for suggesting we go to something as low and cheap as Pride. I’m sorry you don’t want to associate with _people like that_. Next time, I’ll try and be more considerate.”

Philip left after that, spitting his words like saliva in the dust. Lukas allowed them to fester until his frustration ebbed and his hands trembled and he wondered how the hell he was going to fix this.

–

The next day, when Philip arrived at school with a pride flag pinned to the pocket of his jacket, Lukas knew he had fucked up.

After all the homicide shit from last month, dealing with kids at Red Hook seemed comparatively easier. Lukas didn’t like hanging out with Philip when his friends were around, but they made do and didn’t mind the rumours coasting their relationship. They were comfortable in a glass closet – their chemistry visible, but unacknowledged. Until now. 

Philip hadn’t even talked to him about it. He had slammed his locker shut, avoided the cafeteria and didn’t read the texts Lukas sent him. Of course, coming out was Philip’s choice, but – it scared him. If everyone knew Philip was gay, surely they would connect the dots to their relationship, and by extension, Lukas. Everyone would know about Lukas. But they – they couldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t ready. He had to apologise, and maybe then things would go back to normal.

Lukas found him after the fifth period by following a trail of whispers and slurs. Those weren’t new, but they had never been so prolific. It seemed everyone else liked that glass closet too – being gay at Red Hook was okay as long as you didn’t say it. 

Lukas clutched his backpack as his feet steered him towards the courtyard – a shabby ball court overgrown with weeds and enclosed by a rusty chain-link fence. Most of the time, it was empty. But now, he could hear laughter – and insults – and boys catcalling. He felt the dread in his toes.

Things weren’t going back to normal just yet. 

“Kick his ass, bro. He’s weak,” someone yelled.

“Can’t even stand up – he really is a pussy.”

“Where’s your fucking boyfriend now?”

Lukas’s mouth turned arid. A horde of boys jeered over the coiled, quivering shape of Philip while another stood over him, hurling fists and saliva and slurs. An enamel pride flag lay deformed on the asphalt. 

“Get up bitch,” the boy spat. He seized Philip’s collar and yanked him up. “If you’re so gay, why don’t you suck my dick? Make that little flag worth it?”

Raw skin scarred his face. “What dick?” Philip croaked. 

The boy swore at him, shoved him to the ground and sneered as Philip’s head cracked against the bitumen. 

Rage seethed in Lukas’s gut and the voices morphed into black noise. He glared at the boy’s vulgar face and clenched tighter on his shoulder strap. Yet he stood stagnant, ensnared by the cruelty of these boys – these boys he used to hang out with – and the terror in his heart. If he tried to stop this, they would attack him too. They would know.

The boy rammed his feet into Philip’s ribcage. He struck him in the stomach, the chest, the jaw. The others egged him on, spittle flying from their mouths. Philip bent his limbs around his head and rolled to dodge the blows, but he was nothing but a toy in a child’s hands. He choked and cried out with every punch and sobbed when the boy hissed abuse at his face. Still, Lukas stood and watched. Sweat leaking into his palms. Panic boiling in his stomach. 

Then the bell screamed, cutting through the noise. 

“Guys, let’s go before someone sees us,” someone said. 

The boy shoved Philip to the side and stood up. “Fucking queer.”

Then Philip turned his head and saw him for the first time. Looking into his frightened eyes, Lukas couldn’t breathe. He tried to voice the agony of his heart with a mere gaze, but the boys were leaving and if he stood there any longer, they would see him and he was scared – so scared.

He was the first to look away.

–

Bitter clouds drooped from the sky that afternoon. The streets of Tivoli were sallow and vacant, waiting for a downpour. Wind shivered against Lukas’s jacket as he turned his bike onto a narrow, wooded road. His helmet muted the thunderous quiet. Behind the visor, there was a different kind of silence. Soothing and submarine, like plunging underwater. He rested in that silence, buoyed by the droning engine – until Philip’s home came into view.

Honestly, it just made him feel like shit. He wondered if this was a bad idea, showing up at his boyfriend’s when his boyfriend probably had no interest in seeing him. Lukas took a rickety breath, remembering everything he had done to hurt Philip in less than two days, and the guilt ached, right behind his ribs. 

Seeing Philip curled on the ground like that, beaten – it made him unbelievably angry. And yet he let it happen. He stood back and worried only about himself. Once again, he was the asshole who couldn’t communicate and pushed people away with his fear and his insecurity.

He veered off the road and through the front gate. Light splayed from the windows of the spruce cottage, and Lukas could see figures moving between the glass. They daunted him. He swallowed to quell his anxiety and parked his bike near the porch, balancing his helmet on the seat.

He knocked twice.

“Hi Lukas,” Helen said, not quite smiling when she saw who stood on her doorstep. “I didn’t know you were coming by this evening.”

“Hi – I just wanted to, uh, see Philip. Maybe, if I could. Is he – inside?” 

“Not at the moment. Is it necessary?”

“Helen,” Lukas heard Gabe chide from the kitchen. “Let the poor boy in.”

Helen eyeballed him for a moment before stepping to the side. Lukas shuffled inside and smiled hesitantly at her husband. 

“Hey Lukas,” Gabe nodded. He was standing at the stove, sifting onion and garlic in a pan. “Don’t let Helen scare you. She’s just protective of her boy.”

“Justifiably protective,” Helen muttered.

“Philip’s down by the lake. He’s – well, I don’t know if he _wants_ to see you, but I think he needs to. Just be careful now.”

Lukas nodded, understanding the threat under their voices. He fucked up, and now Philip’s parents knew and they were defending him. That was okay. “Thank you. I’ll just – I’ll go find him.” 

“Hang on, Lukas – you want to stay for souvlaki later? We haven’t had you for dinner in a while,” Gabe asked.

At least they didn’t hate him. “Uh – maybe. I’ll check with my dad. Thanks.”

He slipped outside, not missing it when Helen turned to Gabe and instantly protested his being there. He figured he would leave after seeing Philip, anyway. Philip’s parents were obviously wary of him, and he squirmed at the thought of overstepping any boundaries.

He folded his hands into his armpits and took the trodden path to the lake. He passed shabby rowing gear stacked against the fence, an exhausted tractor and uncut lumber. Grass grew coarse and thick in the fields Gabe hadn’t mown. The farmstead always maintained a tame level of dishevelment – he missed it. 

Lukas saw Philip through the wild scrub fringing the lake. He slouched on the edge of the wharf, legs suspended over the surface of the water, ashen in the half-light. 

Lukas stopped where the wooden planks began. His breath wobbled. “Philip?”

Philip flinched almost imperceptibly. The trees shuddered. He didn’t turn around and he didn’t speak, every second of silence that passed igniting fear in Lukas’s stomach. 

Standing there, withdrawn, soon became unbearable. Lukas took timid steps along the wharf, closing the metres between them. If Philip wanted him to leave, he would say so. But he didn’t. 

Lukas crossed his legs on the timber beside his boyfriend. Philip gazed at the lake, his body small and gaunt beneath a black hoodie. He was barefoot, dropping his toes into the water and forming gentle ripples. Lukas realised he had never seen Philip so calm near the lake. 

Lukas clutched his ankles as if they were life preservers. He spent several moments scrambling to find the right words to say, until he stumbled out, “You – you didn’t answer my texts all afternoon.”

There was a beat. Philip turned his head away. “Yeah, well, my phone was turned off,” he muttered. 

Lukas swallowed. Maybe those weren’t the right words. He chewed his bottom lip and his eyes flitted over Philip’s profile. He could see a graze near his eyebrow, speckled with dry blood; a stony bruise staining his jaw; wine-coloured welts trailing down his neck and under his hoodie. But these were just wounds. They were silver in comparison to the black haze of hurt that he knew polluted Philip’s mind and weighed on his shoulders. The guilt in Lukas’s chest burned. 

“I’m sorry, Philip,” he blurted. 

Another beat. Philip met his eyes with distrust. 

“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have let them do that to you, but I just stood there like an idiot and watched. I’m so shitty at this. I try to be better when we’re at school, but…”

“But your friends are assholes and you still don’t want to be seen with me ‘cause it’ll ruin your reputation.”

“That’s not true.”

Philip laughed, but there was nothing really funny about what he’d said. “Then what is it? Why do you pretend I’m invisible when your friends show up?”

“I—”

“Why do you run away when I get fucking bashed?”

Lukas tightened his jaw. “Philip, listen to me. You think I’m just a jerk who wants to be cool. But I don’t give a shit about my reputation. The reason I don’t want to be seen with you is because I know my friends will hurt you. And I hate when they hurt you. It makes me wanna throw up.”

Philip looked startled. “They hurt me even if you aren’t there.” 

“I know, and that’s when I panic and shit because if I help you, they’ll figure it out. They’ll know who I am. But I’m – I’m not ready for them to know. I’m not ready for anyone at school to know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be ready for you.”

“Lukas…” Philip’s eyes softened and he grabbed his hand. “You don’t need to be ready for me. Coming out is your choice and I don’t want you to do it if you don’t feel comfortable. Don’t apologise for that, okay?”

Lukas nodded down at the splintered wharf, but the guilt began to infect his heart. He didn’t deserve Philip’s understanding. No matter how many times Philip said it was okay, he had been an absolute dick. He didn’t show any concern for his feelings and he allowed everyone at school to abuse him. Boyfriends weren’t supposed to do that. Lukas wasn’t a good boyfriend.

But Philip still held his hand, staring across the lake in the silence. Lukas glanced at him again, wishing he could clean the blood from that cut and hold ice to his bruises – _anything_ that would make up for what he’d done. Then he brushed his hand over his pocket and remembered what nestled in there.

“Philip? I – I found this in the, uh, courtyard after school.” Lukas held the crooked pride flag in his outstretched palm. “It’s a little broken, but the pin is intact so I thought you might want it back. It’s okay if you don’t. I could just throw it out if you want, I don’t know—”

Philip took the pin from his hand and examined it. He pushed against the bend in the rainbow and managed to somewhat flatten it out again. Then he sighed. “I probably shouldn’t have worn this today.”

“What? Don’t be stupid. You – you can wear that whenever you want. My friends shouldn’t have hurt you for wearing it.” 

Philip paused. “Do you know why I wore it?”

Lukas opened his mouth. His eyes flicked to their interwoven fingers. He suddenly felt like he wasn’t worthy of holding Philip’s hand. “Because…of what I said yesterday,” he murmured.

But Philip gripped his hand tighter. “Lukas, you can’t say things like—”

“I didn’t mean any of it,” Lukas said. “The way I talked shit about Pride, like it was cliché and meaningless – that’s not what I really think. And how I spoke to you was so gross. You probably hated me after.”

“I did.”

“But none of it was real. It was just me trying not to be vulnerable or some shit.” Lukas plucked at the hem of his jeans. “My dad, he – two nights ago he said all this shit about us. He told me to leave you and stop playing at being gay because the motocross people wouldn’t accept me. And when you talked about Pride, I thought about what would happen if all those people knew and everything came out wrong. I was just scared. I’m sorry.”

Philip paused. “Well, fuck your dad. The motocross people will just have to deal with it – you being gay doesn’t undermine how much of a sick fucking rider you are. You don’t have to be scared.”

“But I am! You’ve been in Tivoli long enough to know that being gay isn’t exactly normal here. I can’t be proud of who I am when everyone is so smallminded. That’s why I hide it at school. That’s why I don’t understand how you can wear a rainbow flag on your jacket.”

The wharf squeaked as Philip shifted his bum to face him directly. “Lukas, I wear a rainbow flag _because_ everyone is smallminded. I know it’s hard – I’m still figuring this out too – but I also know it won’t matter if people don’t accept you as long as you accept yourself. I’ll get hurt for who I am whether I’m wearing a flag or not, so I choose to wear it. You can too, if you want.”

Lukas felt the sting in his nose that comes before tears. He pushed the heel of his hand against it and blinked hard. “God, why are you so smart?” he sniffled.

Philip brought his hand away from his face and into his lap. “Because you’re so dumb,” he replied, voice just as soft.

Lukas whinged and dropped his face in Philip’s shoulder. He clung to the smell of firewood on his hoodie and breathed when Philip held him back. “I’m sorry I don’t want to go to Pride,” he whispered after a moment.

“It’s really okay. I’m sorry I yelled at you instead of asking why.”

Lukas chuckled feebly. “I probably deserved it.”

“Maybe a little.”

Lukas nibbled his bottom lip and an idea rushed into his head. He sat up. “What if we held our own Pride this weekend? In your barn? We could hang up flags and make out all day. I mean, it’s not the same as going to New York City, but at least we can celebrate it, right?”

A rosy grin spread over Philip’s face. “We are absolutely gonna do that.” 

Lukas gazed at the light in his boyfriend’s cheeks and the affection in his eyes, and suddenly loving him didn’t seem so scary. He grabbed his phone and swiped until he found Instagram. Then he tapped on the photo of the boy with the Polaroid Sun, tagged Philip and left the caption empty. “Can I post this?” he asked, flipping the phone to show him. 

Philip’s bronze eyes flitted over the screen. He looked up. “When did you take this?”

“Two weeks ago? We were at Dunkin’ Donuts in Red Hook and you were taking photos of things. You looked cute.”

“Shut up. You really want to post this?”

“Yeah,” Lukas said, and he meant it. “This – this can be my pride flag.”

Then Philip tilted his head and regarded him such warmth and tenderness that Lukas wanted to dive into the lake. But Philip kissed him before he could do that, clumsy and mellow and smiling. Lukas rested his fingers against his jaw, careful to avoid the bruises, and smiled too. 

“Your parents want me to stay for dinner,” he said when they broke apart.

“I thought they were angry at you.”

“Gabe asked me.”

Philip rolled his eyes. “God, he’s too nice to you.”

“No, I think he just trusted me to make things right.”

Philip gave him a look as he slotted their fingers together, and Lukas gave him a shit-eating grin in return. 

A few moments later, the clouds released their droopy rain and the boys scrambled up the hill for warmth and souvlaki, laughing. When they stepped onto the porch, Lukas wiped his wet hair off his face and looked back at the photo of Philip. Then he shifted his gaze to the real Philip, who was grumbling about his sodden hoodie and still holding his hand. Lukas squeezed it, and felt like this – this could be a start. And he tapped the share button.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: georgiabread57  
> tumblr: luminaryhowell


End file.
